Fiona Range

by Mary McGarry Morris

  “I’ve missed you too,” Fiona said with a hard swallow.

  “Arlene?” Uncle Charles called from the dining room.

  There was a pause. “Coming!” Aunt Arlene answered, her strained excitement bringing a squeal from the hushed room as a chair scraped back from the table. The door burst open.

  “Fiona! Oh, I’m so happy you’re here!” Elizabeth cried, throwing her arms around her. Her fine blond hair whisked across Fiona’s face. She smelled the way she always did, like a delicate, lemony flower.

  Behind her through the still swinging door they all looked toward the kitchen. The only light in the long, narrow dining room came from candles burning overhead in the ornate crystal-and-silver chandelier. The flickering reflection was caught in the pale silk threads of the mauve wallpaper. Watching from the head of the table was the stern, high-boned face she had grown up fearing. She would look up from a book or the television, suddenly and unaccountably distressed, only to find her uncle’s bright blue eyes trained on her. “I’m a mess,” she protested as Elizabeth led her into the dining room, saying she was the only one Rudy hadn’t met yet.

  “He’s in the bathroom,” Ginny said, staring up at Fiona with a look of alarm.

  “I know. I look awful,” she tried to explain as Jack stood up and hugged her.

  “Just a bit mussed,” said his wife, Susan, reaching to pat her arm. “It’s all this rain, so much moisture in the air.”

  “I was in such a hurry, I bumped myself getting out of the car.” Her voice faltered with the deft incision of her uncle’s laser-sharp stare: The Judge had heard all the stories, every lame excuse for crime and mishap. “I’m sorry I’m so late. It was my car, you see—”

  “Oh here we go,” Ginny said with her throaty laugh. “Fiona’s cars. Remember the little VW, the white one?”

  “Yes I do, and I thought that was a darn good car,” Bob Fay said to no one in particular, and Fiona was surprised to see him here.

  “Fiona!” Ginny gasped, pointing as Fiona came closer. “Your face, it’s bruised.”

  “That’s what I was saying. I had an accident. I bumped my head.”

  “An accident?” Aunt Arlene said, her face white. “And what was Rudy just—”

  “Well not like a colliding type accident,” she hastened to explain.

  “You mean collision,” Jack said with a quick look at his father.

  “Yah, not like that. What happened was, my car wouldn’t start. The rain, I guess, so I was getting a ride over, and we hit a pothole or a bump or something.”

  “Who was driving?” Ginny asked.

  “This girl I work with,” she said. “Sandy. But she’s okay.” Again she touched her cheek. It was starting to swell. The burdock on her skirt hem scratched her legs as she walked to the end of the table and bent to kiss Uncle Charles’s smooth pink cheek. Though no part of him moved, he seemed to recoil with her touch, his smile waning into forced melancholy as if he dared not risk appearing happy for fear she would do something to shatter it.

  “It’s good to see you again, but are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, lifting his napkin.

  “I’m fine! Really!” she said, her own smile fading as he patted the cheek she’d just kissed. “I didn’t get anything on you, did I?” she asked, then pulled out her chair next to Elizabeth where she always sat.

  “That’s Rudy’s place!” Elizabeth said quickly, her entreating glance meant to remind her father of some pledge they’d probably extracted in the event Fiona came. Feet shuffled with an uneasy burst of dry coughing and throat-clearing.

  “Over here!” Aunt Arlene said, arranging a napkin, plate, and silverware onto the table across from Elizabeth.

  So they hadn’t expected her. Aunt Arlene’s invitation had been deliberately late with the hope she wouldn’t come. Well she had, and now everyone was tense.

  Out in the hallway the bathroom door opened. “Here he is!” Elizabeth announced, smiling at the lanky man in the yellow shirt and navy blazer entering the room. “Rudy, come meet my favorite cousin, Fiona,” she said, arms around them both. “Fiona, this is my fiancé, Rudy Larkin.” Burrs studded the cuffs of his wrinkled chinos.

  “Doctor Larkin,” Ginny added.

  “Hello, Fiona,” he said, smiling, his eyes scanning her hot face. “Well we finally get to meet, but I have to admit I feel as if I’ve known you for quite a while now.”

  “Really?” she snapped with such a warning stare that he looked away.

  “I’ve told him all about you, Fiona.” Elizabeth’s arm tightened on her waist.

  “Well not everything, I hope.” She laughed nervously and eased from her cousin’s embrace down into the chair.

  “All the good things,” Elizabeth said as she and Rudy sat down.

  Urging Fiona to fill her plate, Arlene kept passing mashed potatoes, squash, turkey.

  “Fiona was just staying how she was in some kind of accident on her way here,” Elizabeth told Rudy, then to Fiona said, “And talk about a coincidence, Rudy stopped to help some guy whose car went into the field off Bradley Road. He said the police were there, and they had some frazzled-looking woman in handcuffs.”

  “The driver’s forehead was cut,” Rudy added, slicing his turkey. “He just needed a butterfly on it.”

  “I wonder why they were in handcuffs,” Ginny said.

  The fiancé leaned over and said something at Elizabeth’s ear. Fiona stared at her plate, fully expecting him to explain that only the frazzled woman had been handcuffed. Elizabeth passed him the gravy.

  “Probably went through a stop sign or something,” Jack said. “It doesn’t take much in Dearborn.”

  “Probably some drug thing,” Bob Fay proclaimed, looking toward the Judge with raised eyebrows, his ingenuous reminder of who the greater sinner was at this table.

  Or adultery, Fiona thought, glaring at him. The simplest thing would be to leave right now; just say, nice to meet you, Dr. Larkin, and I hope you all have a good life without me. She shouldn’t have come. They were a family. There was little room for her now in the expanding complexities of their relationships. It must have seemed this same way to her mother, who had probably gotten up from this very table and walked out that door, and in all the years since had never looked back. “Thank you,” she said, taking the gravy boat from her aunt, whose hand shook. An emotional barometer, Aunt Arlene couldn’t stand discord, rancor of any kind. The lines in her strong, square face were faint, but her tightly bunned hair was completely gray. Fiona wondered if her mother’s hair was that gray yet. Natalie was six years younger than Arlene.

  “Actually,” Rudy said, “I was thinking of bank robbery or homicide, the cop seemed so upset.”

  “Police officer,” Jack corrected. Susan stared at her husband.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend anyone,” Rudy said. He looked amused.

  Fiona held her breath as she set down the gravy boat. Aunt Arlene continued to pass more bowls, cranberry sauce, stuffing.

  Ginny leaned forward. “Fiona, you must have gone right by it.”

  “Yah,” she said. “But with the rain I couldn’t see much.”

  “So it’s not such a dull town, is it?” Elizabeth asked her fiancé.

  “You’re the one who keeps saying dull,” he corrected, leaning close and grinning as he wagged his finger at her. “I think the word I used was ‘quiet.’” He winked and looked around the table. “Elizabeth thinks she’s lured me into the furthest reaches of boredom.”

  Face coloring, Elizabeth looked at him. “Except I didn’t lure you,” she said softly, and Rudy continued to smile as if he didn’t know quite what to say.

  “That’s right. You didn’t,” he said with a self-conscious swallow.

  “No, she just said, ‘That’s it, big boy, we’re outta here.’ Right, Lizzie?” Fiona said in her huskiest Mae West growl, but Elizabeth didn’t look up or answer and now Fiona thought Elizabeth was upset with her for coming late and looking like such a
mess. Or maybe just for showing up at all.

  “Well, the most excitement way out here is one of Lucretia Kendale’s yard sales,” Jack said into the pause, and everyone laughed too quickly as they glanced at Elizabeth.

  Ginny explained to Rudy that Lucretia Kendale was the wealthy old woman down the road who advertised yard sales just so she could visit with people who came.

  “It’s usually just junk she puts out,” Susan said.

  “Except the last couple of weekends she put up a sign that said House for Sale,” Jack said.

  “Poor thing just wants a little company, that’s all,” Aunt Arlene said.

  “Well, we’ve got our share of crime here, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Bob Fay said to Rudy. “Most of it’s runoff from Collerton, our poor little city next door. Mucho Hispanics,” he said, shaking his head, either not noticing or not caring that everyone had fallen silent. “And mucho drugs.” He sighed. “There’s just no keeping it out, I’m afraid.”

  “More turkey, Bob?” asked Aunt Arlene.

  Fiona touched her tender cheek.

  Rudy smiled at her. “You probably should get some ice on that,” he said.

  She assured him it was fine, which was Elizabeth’s cue to bridge the gap between herself and her fiancé with the old tales of Fiona’s courage, the teeth filled without anesthesia, all the tearless injuries.

  “You must have an unusually high threshold for pain,” Rudy said, watching her.

  She could feel her eyes smoldering again. “Just naturally numb,” she said with an uneasy smile, not sure where this was headed.

  “She’s always been like that,” Uncle Charles said from the end of the table.

  “A stoic,” added Aunt Arlene.

  “So who was the man they arrested?” Ginny asked Rudy. “Did you get his name?”

  “I didn’t ask,” he said.

  “But I’ll bet you got his Blue Shield number, right?” Bob Fay chortled, and only Rudy laughed. Ginny might have forgiven him, but no one else had.

  “What about the woman? Did anyone say who she was?” Ginny asked.

  “No, no one said.” Rudy turned and asked Susan to pass the rolls. “And the butter, please,” he added as Ginny leaned forward again. This was his second helping and his plate was heaped with food.

  “What did she look like?” Ginny persisted.

  “Tell you the truth, I didn’t get that close a look. Rolls?” he asked Elizabeth, who shook her head. “How about you, Fiona?” he said, offering the basket.

  “Thank you.” She took one, her face burning with shame and gratitude. For a few moments there was only eating, and no one spoke until Aunt Arlene pronounced the white meat a little dry. Oh no. Absolutely not. It was very moist. Perfect. It was quite tender, everyone rushed to assure her.

  “Oh! I almost forgot. I’m taking a course. American history at Dearborn. And Ginny, guess who my teacher is! Lee Felderson!” Fiona said. She grinned as they all began to talk at once, congratulating her for taking a course, wishing her luck, and warning her about how serious Lee Felderson had always been. They laughed as Fiona described the ridiculous review sessions.

  “Well, just make sure you don’t take advantage of her friendship with Ginny, Fiona,” Uncle Charles said.

  “Dad!” Elizabeth and Jack both said, as Ginny sputtered, “Friendship! For God’s sake, Dad, I haven’t seen her in ages.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. Of course, I wouldn’t,” Fiona shot back, provoking a wave of nervous chatter that rose and fell around the table. Her uncle stared at his plate. He could seem so alone at times, so isolated, eating in silence, his attention occasionally snagged by laughter or a stray comment, or a curious phrase that would have to be repeated, the entire story retold so he’d understand. It was the nature of his work, the pathetic stories, the desperate excuses, the constant lies some days just draining him, Aunt Arlene would explain, always trying to compensate for his distance. His breathing had grown deep and labored now with the uneasiness he had caused.

  “I like that sweater, Uncle Charles,” Fiona said of his black crew neck. “It’s a big improvement over your ratty old cardigan.” His gray cardigan with the suede elbow patches had always been a joke between them. Suddenly, she wanted to be the one to reel him back in. She wanted to make him smile the way she’d been able to as a little girl.

  “You think so?” he said stiffly. And with his quick glance away from her bruised face, she seethed with an old resentment at always being the outsider here, a pariah among the cherished, his sister-in-law’s bastard, the obligation that continued to embarrass him.

  “I gave that to Daddy for his birthday,” Ginny told her. “And I made him promise he’d wear it tonight.”

  “Daddy was fifty-nine last week,” Elizabeth told Rudy.

  “And next year’s the big Six O,” Bob Fay added.

  Fiona squirmed. Without Aunt Arlene’s call to remind her, she had forgotten her uncle’s birthday.

  “And don’t forget Susan’s is in two weeks,” Aunt Arlene said quickly.

  Glancing up, Fiona caught Rudy studying her, as if she were some strange new disease he’d just encountered.

  Susan laughed and said that since she was going to be thirty-five she’d appreciate everyone just skipping over hers and moving on to whoever’s birthday was next.

  “That would be my mother’s then. December six,” Fiona said, her voice strangely, unaccountably raised. She’s going to be what, forty-nine, Aunt Arlene?”

  “Yes,” said Aunt Arlene. “Forty-nine, that’s right.”

  “Fiona’s mother was younger than my mother,” Elizabeth explained to Rudy.

  It angered Fiona to see Aunt Arlene sip her wine and turn back to her movie discussion with Ginny. She was trying so hard here, but they didn’t care. And why should they? She was just another of the many acts of kindness and generosity they’d performed over the years. Susan was asking Elizabeth if she and Rudy had considered the Tabor Club for their reception. Ginny was telling her mother that Terms of Endearment was probably on every emotional level the best woman’s movie ever made. Bob Fay checked his watch. He was beginning to look miserable. Other than Rudy, no one had spoken to him. Elizabeth held up her hand and frowned as Rudy tried to pass her the mashed potatoes. She had hardly eaten anything on her plate. Uncle Charles was buttering a roll and Jack was just getting up to go to the bathroom when Fiona announced, “She said to say hello to everyone for her.”

  “Who?” Ginny asked. “Who said?”

  “My mother.”

  “Natalie, your mother?”

  “Yes,” she said with as offhanded a shrug as could be managed with everyone staring at her. She cut a piece of turkey and put it in her mouth.

  “When? When was this?” Ginny asked in a low, breathless voice. Growing up, Ginny had always been suggesting ways to track down Fiona’s mother—personal ads, a private detective—only to be reminded by Aunt Arlene that those things cost a great deal of money. It had been Ginny’s idea to try and make enough money then with a lemonade stand.

  “A while ago. Well, not too long ago, a couple of weeks, I guess.”

  “Fiona! I can’t believe it,” Elizabeth cried. “You mean you’ve talked to her? To Natalie? Your mother? My aunt?”

  She nodded. Her hands writhed in her lap and her foot tapped.

  “Oh! Fiona!” Elizabeth ran around the table to hug her. “Oh, that’s so wonderful. I can’t believe it! After all this time! Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

  Her cousins and their companions smiled and expressed their pleasure. She had Uncle Charles’s full attention now. Still silent, Aunt Arlene sat very still, her hand covering her mouth.

  Elizabeth sighed. “Imagine, after all these years.”

  “What exactly did she say?” Ginny asked.

  “Not a whole lot, really. Just that she wondered how I was doing.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Well, that I was fine.” She shrugged.
“I was so surprised. I was shocked.”

  “Did she say where’s she been all this time?” Elizabeth asked.

  “She never said, and I didn’t want to ask.”

  “What? Why not?” Jack sputtered. “That would have been the first question out of my mouth.”

  “I just didn’t want to put any pressure on her,” she said, trying to hide her pleasure in the warmth of their attention. She took up her fork and knife and cut another piece of turkey.

  “Did she tell you anything?” Ginny asked. “For instance, like why she left the way she did?”

  “Not really.”

  “And you didn’t ask?” Ginny said exasperatedly.

  “Well I did, but all she said was there was a lot of tension.” She saw Aunt Arlene’s hands mask her face with a deep gasp, and suddenly she not only regretted the lie, but was trying to think of some way out of it. A quip, a burst of laughter before announcing the joke was on them, but how could she now when they were so taken with it, so intrigued and excited? They all watched her, none more intently than Uncle Charles. He knew. He always knew, had always seen through her lies. She had to end this before it got worse. “You know, because she was so young and it just all seemed so overwhelming to her.”

  Again, Aunt Arlene gasped.

  “What about her sister here?” Jack asked, resting a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Did she ask about mother? Did she even care?”

  “Oh yes! She asked about everyone, but especially you, Aunt Arlene.” She smiled, and Aunt Arlene began to sob.

  “There.” Jack put his arm around his weeping mother. “There now.”

  “Oh, Mother! Arlene!” Ginny, Elizabeth, and Susan cried in unison. Bob Fay kept looking down the table as if imploring the Judge to set this right again.

  Unaccustomed to seeing this calm, regal woman upset, no one knew what to do or say.

  “I’m all right,” Aunt Arlene sniffed as she stood up. “I’m fine, really!” She hurried into the kitchen and closed the door softly.

  “Well,” Elizabeth said, closing her eyes with a sigh. Rudy put his hand over hers and a flush infused her delicate features.